Hellfire Seas
by MidnightSchemer13
Summary: When Lea and Xion, two best friends, are separated after a pirate attack, what happens when she tries to find her old friend? Will she side with the Navy, or join the pirates herself? And what of the secrets she hides? Giftfic for Hope Eternal. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! New story, yes I know. But hey, if I didn't get this written out, the other stories would be halted until I did O.o**

**My apologies :)**

*****Important! One of our protagonists is fifteen, another is twelve, and yet another is thirteen.  
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**Warnings: Pirates. Fighting. True Love. False Love. Some Hate. Revenge. A Lord And His Men. The Royal Navy. Good Guys. Bad Guys. More Pirates. Buried Treasure. Unburied Treasure. Marooning. Fencing. A Little Blood. Magic. Fire. Skulls. Alcohol. Ice Cream. Ships. Guns. Excitement. A Few Accidents. Wenches. Taverns. Good and Evil. Loyalty. Friendship. Traitors. Secrets. Escapes. Secret Escapes. Hidden Things. Obvious Things. Death. Maybe a little torture. Secret Identities. Fake Identities. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. Pain. Heartbreak. Love Again. No sex. Cannons. Epic Battles. Heroic Sacrifices (?). Possible Sporadic Updates. A continuation of a story never before told! This was UN-BETA-ED.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own anything :P And yes, I've been reading William Goldman's The Princess Bride :D Great book!  
>Some inspiration by Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean and Hino Matsuri's WANTED. Would anybody <em>actually <em>sue someone on FANFICTION? No, really.  
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**SHOUTOUT! To Hope Eternal: was it worth the wait? :D Hope you enjoy! **

**That goes for the rest of you as well~!  
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><p><em>Boom<em>.

_Boom. _

The distant ring of the long nines echoed over the rippling sea and throughout the warm summer night, but to the many people in Fort St. Ansem , they were mistaken for the sounds of the numerous, colourful fireworks bursting into stars in the dark skies above. It was the Lord Xehanort's thirty-first birthday, and, to celebrate, he and his loyal subjects and followers had gone to Devil's Bay, a large lagoon with an island just off the coast, to throw a grand party. Nearly everyone from the area was invited, as well as a few guests from abroad, and there were several musicians, magicians, dancers, storytellers, and merchants from all around the allied countries to contribute to the festivity.

A little ways apart from the main festivities on the beach and island, a group of luxuriously-dressed people gathered in the largest courtyard in the fort. They were all a part of the Inner Sanctum: a tightly-knit circle of the Gentry and the nobles favoured by and closest to the Lord. Of the thirty-something men and women gathered there, only one small boy hid in the crowd. He had long, messy bangs hiding one eye, and clung closely to his tall guardian on his left. Shorter than all the rest, but one of the closest people to the Lord, he took great care to not be crushed by the thoughtless fancymen, and watched with bored eyes the scene before him. He silently observed one of the officers (he knew that man, but for the moment, his name escaped him) leave the table and watched his retreating back. The man was back around ten minutes later, with two unknown children in tow.  
>The two strange guests the boy saw accompanied the approaching Lord to the dinner table; one, a tall boy of about sixteen with striking red hair styled into unique spikes and burnt hands, and the other, a pale young girl, a few years younger than her friend, with short dark hair and bangs hiding her eyes. Both were orphans, street-rats as well, but their talents were rare and truly mesmerizing to witness. They were found by one of the Lord's loyalists, a tall man in uniform with slicked back dark hair and a tattered red scarf, outside the fort, trying to con their way in; he had gone to talk to the two guards there (both muscled men in uniforms) and saw them attempting to slip in. He invited them to the courtyard after seeing their gifts, and told them to wait, not talk until talked to, and present their abilities to the Lord for his and his guests' entertainment when the time was right. They gripped each other's hands tightly, awed and frightened by the sudden invitation to the Lord's Court, and looked around the brightly lit square. The two looked quite out of place, with their clothes clashing with those of the Gentry's and the aristocracy's. While the boy wore a sleeveless, faded orange vest with an off-white canvas shirt underneath and tan, baggy trousers belted with thin rope, and the girl wore a simple, black funeral dress (both were barefoot), the Gentry and aristocracy wore elaborate outfits with frills, lace, rich vibrant colours, and expensive fabrics. The boy traced patterns in the dust on the cobblestone floor with his dirty toes nervously, feeling awkward and uncomfortable, and the girl fidgeted restlessly beside him, when suddenly the Lord snapped his fingers at the two standing behind him and a little to his left and began talking to them.<p>

"You. Boy. What is your name?" he asked in a deep, authoritative voice. The boy looked up abruptly at the Lord, then, remembering that looking into a Superior's eyes was forbidden, looked down again and released the girl's hand. He alternated between staring at the Lord's clothes and the cobblestone ground as he answered. Lord Xehanort was wearing a smart navy blue jacket with golden buttons, paired with black breeches, pearl-white stockings, and silver-buckled shoes, as well as wearing several rings on his fingers, nothing more elaborate than a metal band with either a jewel or words engraved into it. His throat and cuffs were frothing with cream-coloured silk, and his hair was silver-grey, despite his age being only being thirty-one. The cobblestone ground was lightly dusted with a layer of dirt and sand, with small grasses sprouting up between the stones. He watched a small pink worm crawl between the cracks, and contemplated picking it up, but remembered the company he was in.

"Lea… sir," he said clearly, sounding and looking more confident than he felt. The Gentry murmured amongst themselves for a moment at the strange boy's unfamiliar accent, before the Lord raised his hand for silence.

"What is your talent, Lea?" He didn't quite speak slowly, but one could tell that each word was chosen carefully before spoken out loud. Lea shuffled his feet a bit.

"I'm a Fire Magician, sir." Several ladies ooh-ed at this statement, but the men looked skeptical. True Fire Magicians were usually over their thirties, if they started young. One of the men, dressed in a fine, oyster-silk suit, called out a challenge.

"How do we know he's a true Fire Magician? He could be using fake trickery to deceive us."

Lea grinned widely, and snapped his fingers to conjure a small ball on flame in his hand, and bowed deeply. The flame flickered and danced in his palm, illuminating the rough, burnt skin, and morphed into several fluid shapes as the boy spoke.

"Sir, I'd like to demonstrate that I _am_, in fact, a true Fire Magician, by performing a special show for the Lord." He bowed once more to the Superior, who nodded, leaning his face on his hand, and motioning for him to continue. Lea snapped his other hand and a twin fireball appeared. He began juggling the two flames, when suddenly more appeared, each time the ball passed through his hands.

After a few minutes, roughly fifteen fireballs were being juggled high into the air in a fiery arc. The nobles watched in fascination as the young boy clapped his hands and caught all of the flames in one hand. Once he did so, he merged them and created one fireball, which then slowly changed colours from orange and yellow, to red, purple, and then, finally, blue.

The blond aristocrat who had spoken out earlier stared at the blue flame in amazement; convinced that the boy was truly a Fire Magician, young though he was.

Lea then began splitting the blue flames once again, this time into five different balls, and made them circle his body in fast orbits, each one flashing and glimmering brightly as they weaved around and between his arms, neck, middle, and feet. He began dancing as well, all the while juggling the fire around him, taking care not to burn himself or his outfit, so that after a while, it looked like he was faintly glowing. This received great applause from the audience, with the exception of the Lord, who merely watched, never moving, though with a faint look of amusement on his face. The clapping paused with a hand motion from the Lord as the redhead continued his performance.

To finish his show, Lea slowed the flames greatly, defying inertia and making them drift lazily through the air, before he tossed them up into the air simultaneously, where the hovered in the sky for a second before bursting into miniature, multicoloured sparklers.

The applause resumed, possibly louder, as tiny sparks floated down from the sky and vanished just before landing on the nobles' faces, leaving behind the warm, sweet scent of cinnamon and a tinge of gunpowder.

Xehanort's expression of amusement remained, though now his lips were twitching into something akin to a smirk.

"You have true talent, little one. You have my compliments." Lea beamed and bowed once again as the Lord motioned for him to come closer, and ordered a uniformed man with a red scarf to bring another chair. The magician recognized him as the man who let them in, but said nothing. Lord Xehanort motioned for him to sit down in the chair next to him (he slid in nimbly: the corner of the table was aimed at his stomach, and he didn't want to poke himself against it), and looked at him carefully. "What of your friend?" he asked, his voice low enough that only the closest Gentry could hear; it carried a slightly mocking air, as if challenging her to be better. "What is _her _talent?"

Lea glanced at his companion, who still stood a little ways apart from the throne, and felt guilty for temporarily forgetting about her in all the excitement.

"Er…" His eyes widened as she began walking towards the Lord, and reached her hand out to tug on his navy sleeve. He shook his head frantically, and she paused.

Xehanort turned to look at the girl, and she curtsied clumsily under his golden-eyed gaze.

"Er… This is my friend, Xion, sir. She's a—"

"A singer, my Lord," finished the curtsying girl in a clear, sweet voice. She straightened up and folded her hands in front of her. "Is there anything in particular you wish to hear sung?"

Lord Xehanort raised a thin eyebrow at her words.

"Your manners need assistance, young one, but for now, why don't you sing to us one of your favourite songs?" Xion blushed at the reprimand, but made no other acknowledgement of his remark, except perhaps standing _just _a little bit straighter. She drew in a deep breath, and began to sing one of the hardest songs she knew, full of highs and lows and quick verses, just to show off to the Lord and amend for her prior mistake.

Her melodious voice flowed through the air like a current in the sea, and shocked the Gentry into silence. The red-scarfed man stood silently behind Lea's seat, to the right of Xehanort, and remained as stoic and, to all outer appearances, unmoved, as his Superior. Lea snatched a glance at the Lord and quietly gasped as he saw that the smirk on his face had not vanished, and he was _still _regarding the table and the girl with faint amusement. Lea shook his head, promising himself that before the night ended, she'd have the Lord awed by her songs, and returned his attention to his friend.

Her clear voice was like crisp wine, and through her song, she cast a spell of beauty and dreams in the minds of the nobles. They could clearly imagine the scenes the outlandish girl was singing of, and the green fields and blue skies; they felt the heartbreak of the woman in the song as her knight fell to the dragon, and felt the surge of happiness and warm feeling of hope at the end of the song as the girl sang of happier times ahead.

When at last the song ended, more than a few of the aristocrats had sparkling eyes, wet from unshed tears. The Gentry seemed moved as well, but none had tear streaks on their faces.

The roar of applause was just as great for Xion as it was for Lea, and many of the Lord's guests cried for another song. She inelegantly curtsied again, tripping over her own feet but catching herself before she fell, and earned the laughter of the listeners. She smiled nervously and began singing again; this time a lively dance song, and presently she had the whole group clapping along to her song as she danced. She smiled through her melody as she saw even Xehanort clapping, though half-heartedly. The man behind him with the red scarf winked at her as he clapped along to the beat, as did Lea, though he was smiling at her and mouthing words of encouragement. A warm feeling awakened in the black-clad girl, and she continued her song, laughing and smiling as well.

Three songs later, the appetizers had gone and dinner had been served, and Xion's throat was parched from singing so much. Lord Xehanort lifted the silver cloche cover off of his plate to reveal a crimson lobster with white meat spilling out and a salad on the side, and regarded it with a muted expression of approval. As the man with the red scarf poured wine into his goblet, the Lord placed the cloche back on his plate.

"Xion… You must be tired," he said. "You may sit next to Lea and have some dinner, if you wish." Xion smiled weakly and stumbled over to the seat Lea had drawn up for her. She sat down gratefully, and sipped some water the red-scarfed man offered her.

"Thank you," she said, albeit a little hoarsely. The man in uniform grinned, and asked her if she was alright. Xion nodded shyly, but the man let out a soft bark of laughter.

"Ha! As if! You need to rest: there's no way you'll be fine after singing five songs with no water. Don't take the wine. You'll irritate your throat," he added with a warning look; "and then Xehanort won't be able to hear your bell-like voice anymore." Xion turned faintly pink at the compliment, and looked down.

"I won't drink the wine, sir," she said. Lea looked at his friend and opened his mouth to say something, but the man cut him off (by complete accident, of course: standing behind him, he had no idea that the boy was about to speak to his friend).

"It ain't sir, miss," he said with a wink. "It's Braig. And I recommend the dessert especially. You'd like it, I would think. Creamy and sweet: the Lord's ordered ice cream for his birthday."

Lea completely forgot what he was about to say and turned his head to look at Braig with wide eyes. He had only ever heard of ice cream, but had never seen or tasted it. It was a legendary treat, for only the rich, and he and Xion had given up ever trying to (pardon the pun) sweet-talk a taste out of a vendor long ago.

"I-_ice cream?_" Braig shut his mouth with a knowing look.

"Shh. Don't ruin the surprise." He grinned and walked away, vanishing behind a stone wall of the fort, leaving the two children stunned. Fortunately, Lord Xehanort was deep in the middle of a conversation with the blond man who spoke out earlier, and had not heard a word (nor cared to know) of what Braig had said to the two.

Lea and Xion looked at each other with wide eyes, before silently mouthing, "_Yes!_" and excitedly clapping their hands together (as this was before high-fives were invented).

"We're gonna taste _ice cream_, Xion!" breathed the redhead excitedly in a hushed whisper.

"I can't wait!" They giggled silently to themselves, but immediately straightened up and looked respectable once they realized that Xehanort's conversation with the blond man was ending. It wouldn't do for his newest guests to make a spectacle of themselves, at the dinner table no less; besides, being thrown out would be incredibly dishonourable and humiliating, so the two children minded themselves and behaved well into the night.

A small bell rang as the signal for dinner was given, and the other nobles began opening their silver cloche covers and piercing the lobster meat inside with gold utensils. Lea looked at all of the forks, spoons, and knives with discomfort and awkward unfamiliarity. There were so many, and he didn't know which one was to be used for what. He glanced at Xion and copied her movements; after all, she used to work as a maid in a governor's household, before the accident.

Soon, lively chatter from the Gentry filled the air as the loyalists conversed with one another, and their Lord. Lea listened to what snippets he could: their way of speech was different from his own, and they used unfamiliar words as well. But with one thing and another as he attempted to learn some of their speaking habits, three more (short) courses passed, and soon it was time for dessert. As waiters and servants began bringing tiny, ornate gold bowls and cups on their steel trays, Xion and Lea fidgeted with concealed excitement. They grinned at each other, and quietly thanked the men who placed the rare dessert onto the table before them.

Lord Xehanort picked up a dainty gilded spoon and elegantly scooped up a bite of the iced cream. As soon as he placed the utensil in his mouth, his lips quirked upwards and everyone took the cue as a signal to begin eating.

Lea and Xion scooped their iced cream dessert with their spoons and placed it into their mouths simultaneously: friends didn't let friends try ice-cream for the first time by themselves. Sharing was what made it special.

At first taste, the flavour was soft and delicate, like a feather; but then it became sweet, bolder, with a rich aftertaste. The fruit on the side had also been chilled, and thus their flavours had not yet mixed with the frozen cream's, and the children _relished _it.

As Xion ate her dessert slow enough to savour it, but not so slow as to let it all melt, her eyes wandered from time to time to the pleasantly chatting group to her right. The lacquered table was long, but she could see the end.

She also saw the only other child present: one with pale skin, though darker than hers, and slate-coloured hair. His visible eye was downcast (she could only see half of his face) as he concentrated on eating his sweet treat.

She wondered why he would focus on his iced cream, just like her. He was obviously one of the Gentry: he had a gold ring on his left hand (his pale fingers clutched the spoon elegantly, she noted with slight shyness), so why would he pay such attention? Surely he would have tasted something so sweet and rich and delicious and...

_I'm rambling again_, she giggled to herself. She glanced down, and, to her comical horror, noticed her treat melting on the edges and quickly scooped up the cream and ate it, smiling at the taste.

_I wonder who that boy is? ...No. I shouldn't pay any attention to him. He's a Gentry, I'm a peasant singer. It wouldn't work out. Besides, I have Lea. _

The young singer glanced over at her red-haired friend, who was talking and laughing with Braig (who had returned at some point; he stood between him and the next noble over) and sighed softly. She was so fond of him...

But the delectable dessert demanded her attention first, and she was determined not to let it melt before entering her mouth.

Lea laughed as he watched his friend eat the dessert with a clumsy air of feigned elegance.

It was sweet.

Moments later, the bell for eleven o'clock rang, and Xehanort finished his dessert. His ice-cream was larger than the others' (for obvious reasons), but not by too much. He also had gold leaf and exotic fruits on his, and a few drops of the dried juices shone on his lip, before they were quickly licked up by his tongue and wiped off by his napkin.

The young Lord clapped his hands thrice, signaling the end of the dinner. Immediately, movement ceased as everyone placed down their spoons, and waited for his speech.

Everyone except Xion and Lea stood up as Xehanort did: the two children realized a few seconds late that they had to as well, and stood up. Xion's eye roamed the crowd and she smiled as she saw the slate-haired boy stand on his chair. The Lord's voice drew her attention back to him, however.

"_My dear people..._" he began in his deep, authoritative, slow voice. Lea thought of it like molasses: slow, honey-like sweet, and dangerous.

"_Today is my thirty-first birthday, and, while we shall have a spectacular speech and celebration as the day draws near in less than an hour—_" Cheering erupted from the nobles, and Xehanort smirked slightly as he held up a hand for silence.

"_Yes, yes, I eagerly await the show as well. However! Seeing as we all have... fifty-six minutes left now, I would advise you all to enjoy the festivities until midnight!_" He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture and smiled (Lea saw how it was mostly fake. He suspected it had something to do with fancy people's customs or whatnot), allowing everyone to take their leave. He lowered his arms and turned around, sweeping away with Braig and the blond man, his navy-blue coattails fluttering slightly from his sudden movement.

Xion heard him bending down to the ring-wearing boy and mutter, "No. Stay here," as he left with a dignified air with the Lord. She watched the boy stand there silently, staring at the wall, and decided to approach him.

The funeral-dress-wearing singer wove her way through the dresses and trousered legs of the men and women there, and quietly walked up to the boy. They were about the same height.

"Hello!" She offered her hand to him. He turned, and for the first time, she saw the other side of his face. He had bangs, messy and layered, covering his right eye. His other eye was bright aquamarine, but was dull-looking from boredom. He glanced down at her hand and looked at it. Xion's friendly smile faltered a bit.

"You're, er, supposed to shake it..." she explained. He moved his gaze from her hand to her face, and she felt shy.

"I guess you don't want to..." She smiled weakly and rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "So, are you having fun at this party?"

Shrug.

"I guess it's a really important number, isn't it? Thirty-one? Or do they always have such a fancy to-do up here?"

He shook his head.

"Why is it important?"

Another shrug. Xion smiled and shook her head.

"Well, it was nice talking to you! See you at midnight!"

He stared after her with his aquamarine eye as she left the fort for the festivities below, on the first level (they were on the second; the walls had walkways on them, but there was barely a third floor: just a bell-tower and an observatory-patio. The first floor was where the festivities were, and had a bridge to the outer beach and to Devil's Bay).

What a peculiar girl.

Xion made her way through the crowd and met up with Lea: he was watching with amazement as three clowns set themselves on fire, dance in the flames, and douse themselves with a strange smoke to smother the fire. Moments later, they would step out from the curtain of smoke to reveal that they were completely unharmed: not even a slight burn on their skin.

"I wanna learn to do that," he breathed to her in awe. "That'd be so cool. But none of the Scrolls teach that..."

"How 'bout you go ask them?" his friend suggested. Lea shook his head.

"Nah. Either I learn from the top, from my mind, or from my dreams. I'm not gonna go ask some clowns how. Hey, let's go check out _that!_" Tugging on her arm, he led her to the next attraction. A young artist was drawing people from the crowd, and was giving them their drawings in exchange for a few coins. It was hard to tell whether the artist was a boy or a girl: their hair was tucked neatly into their brown tricorn, and their clothes gave nothing away [except that a) whoever they were used a lot of paint, and b) they wore peasant-clothing when drawing].

A few feet over stood a tall woman with long black hair and a black dress next to a taller man with slightly spiky blond hair (no where near the spikiness of Lea's) in a jacket with one arm. They were at a white table and were selling fortunes, shuffling cards with mystical symbols on them, and reaching into a frothing, smoking cauldron every now and then to take out more strange objects, such as a peacock feather, glass spheres, crystal triangles, and a gold hoop. The woman wore a red bandana on her head, and the man wore a red scarf around his neck.

"Do you want to get our fortunes?" whispered Xion. Lea grinned and quickly slipped his hand into the embroidered pocket of a nearby gentleman. He fished out a small money-bag and took out three gold coins, taking care to slip the pouch back into the man's pocket silently.

"Sure!"

They walked up to the woman and asked for their fortunes. She smiled brightly and accepted one of the gold coins: a fortune cost a silver each, and so she returned eight coins to them.

"You, dear boy... Ah, I see an adventurous future ahead of you. Your catlike emerald eyes shall see far. If you play your cards right, you'll soon end up very powerful, and with plenty of treasure. Ladies will _swoon _over you. You should carry an empty blue inkwell with you when you go out to sea for good luck, and you must wear a silver ring when around pirates."

"What happens if I don't?" Lea asked cheekily, hiding his amazement. It was as if the gypsy-like woman _knew _he wanted to sail the seas and find buried pirates' treasure.

The woman looked taken aback slightly from the unexpected question.

"If you...don't?" Her mystical tone faded for a moment, but for a moment only. She smiled warmly. "Well, I guess you could say you'd have a slightly different future... Maybe your luck could change." She shrugged and smiled. "Oh, and also... your pickpocketing skills are very good; but I don't suggest you do that _too _often." She winked at the boy, who blushed a shade lighter than his hair. The woman turned to his friend and looked at her palm for a few seconds.

"Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart... You still mourn for your brother? Your voice is very talented. Do not weigh it down with the weight of the dead. It should be light and free, as it was meant to be. You sing beautifully, little one," she smiled. "But, you'll need to learn more than just how to sing if you're to survive in your future. Take care on the second night on any ship, and carry this locket with you—" She reached her hand into the cauldron and lifted out a golden, heart-shaped locket. She handed it over to the young girl, who thanked her and smiled.

"Happy twelfth, Xion," said the blond man next to the woman softly, with a kind smile. Xion and Lea stared at him in amazement.

"How—?" But the two adults merely shook their heads and smiled, and a sudden movement of the crowd swept them away and to the very edges of the fort.

…...

A soft breeze rippled through the long grasses on the island, outside of the fort, and danced through the two children's hair. The booming sounds were closer now, but only Lea noticed them.

He recognized them as the sounds of a cannon, but said nothing so as to not worry his friend.

The two guards at the door, one with red hair and one with black, recognized them but did nothing to throw them out. They merely suggested that as it was hot and crowded inside, and as they had twenty minutes left until the final fireworks, that maybe the two could go out to the small field of grass where the flowers grew. Xion immediately asked Lea to go with her there, and so there they went, and they sat down in the grass to look at the night sky.

Xion began unconsciously ripping out a few blades of grass with her fists. Lea glanced over at her and sighed.

He cared for her. A lot. But how to tell her? Tonight was such a romantic night, but they only had fifteen minutes left, and he didn't want to rush it.

An idea sprang to mind. Gently, he picked one of the growing flowers and tapped Xion's shoulder. She looked at him with a curious smile.

"Hm?"

Lea took her hand and placed the daisy-like flower in it. She watched with silent fascination.

"Here. This is for you. It's a birthday present for my best friend. See how there're fourteen white petals?" Xion nodded. Lea quickly drew out a tiny dye-bottle from his pocket and squeezed a drop onto one of the petals. The white quickly blossomed into cerulean, the exact color of Xion's eyes. "Well, now one of the petals is bright blue, just like your eyes." He gently closed her hand around the flower and shyly, ever-so-gently brushed her bangs aside with his burned hand, and kissed her forehead.

It was a sweet kiss, a friendly crush kiss; not at all out of line, and the two blushed profusely after it.

The singer suddenly hugged her friend around the middle.

"Thank you, Lea," she whispered into his chest, suddenly acting very much like a young twelve-year-old lady should. They smiled and enjoyed each others' company, when there was another _BOOM_, though this time louder than ever and definitely unable to be mistaken for the fireworks. There was a tense second of silence as Lea determined the direction from where the shot came.

"_DUCK!_" He threw themselves down, taking care to cradle and protect Xion's head, as the cannonball _whooshed _by and burst through one of the outer walls. There were several screams from inside, and the two guards began sounding the alarm.

"_PIRATES! TO THE EASTERN BORDER!_" The bells in the tower began clanging as the guests began trying to make their escape.

Lea swiftly scooped up his friend and began running for the bridge to the mainland, when suddenly several unseen enemy dinghies made themselves visible, casting aside their disguises, and unleashed the crowds of pirates within.

"_Lea!_" Two pirates grabbed a hold of the redhaired fifteen-year-old and pushed aside the young girl. He was fighting back fiercely, but knew he was no match.

He couldn't even use his hands to create fire.

Xion ran towards the trio, but Lea gave her a desperate look.

"Xion! No, stay back! Get to safety, I'll hold them off!"

"No! Lea, I won't leave you!"

"_RUN!_" He gave her a pained smile, telling her _I'll be okay, I promise. Just stay safe, please, for me. I—_

The pirate directly behind him clubbed his head with the butt of his sword to quit him from squirming so much ("_Like a slippery eel, this 'un. Reckon it'll be worth it?_" "_Aye. His hair'll fetch a pretty penny if he'd stop his damn wigglin'!_") and Lea fell, slumping into the pirates' arms, and was carried away. Xion tried to run after them but was shot in her thigh, preventing her from running, by another pirate.

She screamed for Lea until she blacked out, never once letting go of the flower he gave her.

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><p><strong>AN: CLIFFIE? WHAAAAT? I'm evil.**

**So, how was it? Good? Bad? It shall be continued, but I think I overdid some parts, like the ice cream and the fortune-telling. Tell me your opinion please! Even if it's a few words. Thanks!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**AN UPDATE? Don't wake me, I'm dreaming!  
>Hello, dear and beloved readers! I'm happy to report that I'm feeling better, my illness is almost completely gone, and all that's left is a few headaches, a couple sore throats, and lots of sneezing.<strong>

**No, it wasn't the Spanish Flu :) **

**I'm also happy to report that the second chapter is done! Wooo! I think we see a bit more character development ( I *think*), and a couple clues to the third chapter. Enjoy!**

**_Special thanks to: _Everyone who Alerted, Favourited, and Reviewed! **

**_Shoutout! to: _Hope Eternal; Jcthegirl; WeDidItForTheDead (I miss our conversations!); and Infinite Eyes. Thank you guys so much!**

**_And now, without further ado (since everyone's waited long enough), I hereby present to you, Chapter Two!_  
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><p>Xion knew something was wrong even before her heavy eyelids fluttered open. The friendly, familiar, warm and callused hand that used to poke, tickle, and lightly caress her awake was gone. The young singer <em>never <em>slept alone, and Lea was always there to keep her nightmares at bay, but not this morning. Her head moved slightly, but what was underneath it was neither earth nor stone, nor grass nor hay, and the smell of the room was quite different from the scent of outside.

_Where am... I? Wait... Where's Lea?_

She woke up with a start, panic beginning to run through her veins, and tried to sit up, managing to just barely lift her shoulders, but winced at the sharp pain in her lower abdomen, and lowered herself down. Slitting her eyes to shield them from the bright light in the strange room, the ebony-tressed girl looked around, and saw three shadowy figures in the room. A particularly tall one turned towards her, then said something to the shadow on her left in a strange tongue, and left the room.

Immediately the bright light dimmed, and Xion felt that she could open her eyes without burning them out.

She blinked once, twice, and stared.

She was in a somewhat small room on a white, white bed facing the oaken door. A window to her right spilled soft morning light into the room, and there were three large mirrors placed on the walls. One was tilted away from the window, and two faced each other, creating eternal reflections. Xion rolled her head to the side to look at her left (ignoring the strange, dull pain in her neck), and her eyes widened slightly.

Sitting in a chair, holding a clipboard and writing periodically on the paper clipped to it, was the blond man with long hair and an oyster-silk suit. Beside him, and a little ways off to the side, stood the silent boy with strange, slate hair. Xion gasped a shaky breath.

The blond man looked up at her with startlingly bright, light green eyes, and examined her critically.

"Well, at least you've woken," he said briskly, and looked down again at his paper, and scribbled some more on it, before taking out a syringe from a leather pouch and inserted the tip into her neck, with neither warning nor pain. Xion, for no reason she knew, calmed down a bit and relaxed, but her mind would not let go of the nagging fear of where Lea could possibly be.

"Where's––" she tried saying, but her voice was so _hoarse_, as though she'd been screaming and crying for hours. The man's eyes flickered towards her, and he stood up, walked out of the room, and came back in not a minute later holding a straw and a cup of steaming... something. He offered the cup to her, letting her hold it with her weak hands and inserting the tip of the straw into her mouth.

"Drink up," he said. "It's lemon, honey, and tea. You'll feel better." Xion looked at it for a moment before hesitantly sucking up the warm liquid through the straw, and swallowed.

A most wonderful feeling crashed over her, one of love and care, like the feeling of going to a mother after a bad dream and being sung to sleep by your favourite lullaby. Such a personal memory... but the feeling went away as soon as it had come, leaving no trace behind save for the warm, buzzing feeling in her throat.

"_Thank you_..." she whispered hoarsely, placing the glass on the bedside table. "_Where's Lea?_"

The two others looked at each other, and the blond man sighed.

"_Pirates_," he said, with his voice dripping with contempt, "attacked the fort last night, hoping to kidnap Lord Xehanort. The scoundrels abducted several guests, vandalized the outer walls, and made off with some of the Lord's finest silver." He lay a pale, bony hand gently on her bed. "They captured your fiery friend, little singer."

Xion went white as her memories from the night before flooded back into her mind. Quickly, she attempted to escape the bed and leave the room, but doubled over in pain, letting out a pained yell. The boy quickly helped guide her back into bed, and gently pushed her into the pillows. The medical gentleman gave him a look.

"She shouldn't be able to do that... Ienzo, are you sure we gave her enough of the dosage?"

_Ienzo... that's his name? Ienzo... _Xion watched him nod once, and tilted her head. Did the boy _ever _show emotion?

"_Ngh!_" The dull pain in her thigh suddenly worsened, sharp, unceasing and unyielding, causing her to clutch it and rub, trying to alleviate the hurt. _It hurts... so badly..._ The man in white said some words in the strange, foreign tongue to the boy, and he caught Xion's wrists and held them tightly, but not enough to cause her pain. The man then lifted the blankets and folded them back, revealing Xion's pale legs and her bandaged right thigh. Two spots of wet, crimson blood were steadily soaking the white linen strips. The young girl gasped at the sight, and squirmed, trying to slither her wrists out of Ienzo's grip; no such luck. Ienzo merely held on a bit tighter. The man clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Medicine does not seem to work on you," he murmured. "You should have stayed unconscious for at least three days with the amount of blood you lost, yet you awakened in less than a day; the sedative should have kept you calm and relaxed, yet it wore off within minutes; and the salve we smeared on your wound should have hardened and kept it closed, yet it has reopened (though your rubbing may have had something to do with that). How extraordinary..." His long, pale fingers nimbly untied the neat knots of cloth, and unwound the bandages from her thigh quickly; once they were all gone, two large, gory gunshot wounds were visible. He then quickly fetched a small bowl of white paste from the bedside table and began smearing the salve onto her wounds again. Xion whimpered at the cool, stinging sensation of the medicine, but bit her lip, quieting herself.

_Lea would be strong. I'll be strong just like Lea._

She shut her eyes tightly, but couldn't resist a peek as she watched the man quickly wrap up her thigh with new, fresh linen bandages; despite the pain, his practiced movements fascinated the singer, who had never before been treated by a real doctor. As she was no longer squirming, Ienzo released her wrists, something Xion barely noted.

_The manor maids never did things this neatly... But then again, the manor maids were taught by the previous manor maids, who were probably never taught by nuns. _She drew in a sharp breath, almost a hiss, as the aristocratic doctor finished tying her bandages. "There," he said, turning to toss the soiled bandages in a basket in the corner of the room, "that should hold for a while. To think that a pirate would own a double-barreled blunderbuss and proceed to shoot a _child _with it..." He shook his head. "It's _despicable._ Ienzo! Watch over her until I return. Make sure she _stays put_. I must speak with Dilan and Aeleus immediately. As for _you_," he said, turning to face Xion, "don't overexert yourself. If the wound reopens, have Ienzo clean it. If it festers, infection could spread. Oh, and your dress is on the chair. The servants cleaned the blood off for you." As he turned and left through the oaken door, Xion tried to process what had just been said in her foggy mind.

_My dress... is on the chair? _Quickly, she looked down, and realized that she was wearing nothing but her shift and undergarments, something she had seen before, but not processed. Xion blushed pink at this, and hid herself underneath the white blankets, so that only her hands and head poked out.

An awkward silence ensued. Ienzo sat in the doctor's chair, and fiddled with the ring on his hand for a few minutes, before taking the glass of honey and lemon and giving it to Xion, motioning for her to drink up. She took it gratefully, and began sucking up the warm liquid thoughtfully, weighing her chances of escaping the room. With a sigh, she reluctantly decided to stay and rest; if she was to rescue Lea, then she needed her strength.

"Lea was kidnapped by Pete's crew." Xion, startled at Ienzo's sudden statement, coughed on her drink.

"_Excuse me?_" she asked in her hoarse voice. Ienzo looked at her with his unreadable, aquamarine eye.

"Pete's crew. They abducted your friend." He turned away from her and stared at the mirrors. "They're slavers," he said with hatred, "and they plan on selling Lea in the Black Market in Agrabah."

Xion stared at her hands, but then looked up.

"_...How long until I heal?_" Ienzo glanced back at her, and flicked his glance over to her thigh. Unconsciously, she fidgeted for but a moment under his brief gaze.

"Even doesn't know, but I think that those bullets were coated in Darkness, a strong poison; that's why we couldn't stitch your wounds closed: the Darkness kept eating at the thread. The salve should work, if your thigh doesn't get infected, but you should be bedridden for at least three more days. You'll be able to walk in two." Xion stared at the boy incredulously, then looked down at her clasped hands (having replaced her drink on the bedside table again as he spoke), her bangs hiding her eyes. "_Is Even... the medical noble?_" she asked softly. Ienzo nodded.

"We told you our names when you woke up, but I don't think you heard." The girl watched him fiddle with his ring again with fascination. The movement was practiced, learned: twist, rub, twist again, clutch in hand, trace the band, rub again, twist, rub, twist again... Ienzo looked up and caught her watching. She blushed slightly, but said nothing as he thrust his hand into the pocket of his black pants, pulled out a packet of powdery white dust, tore a hole in the neat twist of paper with his nails, and shook the substance into her drink. He handed it to her again

Xion took the glass of lukewarm liquid and began drinking it again, and as she did so, her eyelids began to feel heavy, her vision began to blur, and she faintly saw Ienzo take the drink from her hands as she fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p>"I need to see the gypsies."<p>

Three days had passed, and the wound was nearly healed, only leaving a shrinking scab and bruising around the area. Xion's voice had returned, her throat having healed, and she lay on the white bed, resting, fidgeting restlessly under Ienzo's watch. Mostly, he had stayed outside her door, as Lord Xehanort had known of her wound and wished her speedy recovery, but from time to time, under the orders of the medical gentleman Even, he would come inside to keep her company and make sure that she stayed resting.

He had been sitting by the window, the mirrors shut away, when she spoke her wish, and looked at her, somewhat startled. He tilted his head in question, and furrowed his eyebrows, asking for an explanation. Xion removed the blankets off of her body and swung her legs down, dangling them mere centimeters from the floor.

"I need to see the gypsies," she said again. "There was a woman, a pale one with black hair, and a tall man, with fair hair. He knew me, knew my birthday. They'll know how, they can help me find Lea. I need to find him." Ienzo regarded her with a thoughtful look, one that often appeared on his serene, stoic face.

"They might have been abducted by the pirates, or worse, have been working with them..." he added gravely. Xion must have looked affronted at the very idea, because Ienzo shrugged and said, "They don't have the best reputation in this part of Destiny Islands," before turning back to gaze out of the window.

"They wouldn't do that! They were so nice!" The steady movement of her legs stopped, and her soft voice rose just a bit higher. Ienzo snapped back, glancing at her quickly, his hair briefly swinging out of his face, revealing a second bright, aquamarine eye, around which was-

Time seemed to slow for Xion as she saw a large, dark bruise around his eye, but the glimpse quickly vanished as his hair fell back into its natural position and he studied her face closely, with slightly hardened, slightly narrowed eyes. He made no acknowledgement of her seeing the dark blemish behind his bangs.

"So was the crocodile who lured in the fish." The dark-haired singer lost her indignation at his comment and tilted her head in confusion.

"What?" Ienzo gave her a long look before turning to look out of the window again, and murmuring softly to himself: 

"_How doth the scheming Crocodile _

_Add to his treasure chest?_

_He pours the waters of the Timeless _

_On every golden crest. _

_How cheerfully he seems to grin, _

_How neatly spreads his claws, _

_And welcomes little fishes in _

_With gently smiling jaws._" * 

Ienzo paused, sighed, and remained gazing out of the window as he spoke once more.

"You may leave, and see your friends, the gypsies, if you so wish." Only his lips moved as he spoke, but otherwise, he remained motionless on the chair. It took a moment as Xion's mind realized what she had said, but then she stood, lightly touching her collarbone, and quickly went to the door, trying to hide her limp. She paused as she opened the door, and looked back at him.

_Should I thank him? _

But Ienzo did not look at her, and continued to watch the courtyard from inside. Xion's hand tightened, and she left the room without another word, both the _Sorry _and the _Thank you _dying in her throat.

The door shut itself with a dull _thud_. The slate-haired youth shook his head fiercely as it did so, and glared at the empty bed.

_No. I promised myself that I'd forget about that. Even Even asked me to. It's all in the past, it's all in the past, it's all in the past..._

_But a wise person learns from the past and uses it to shape his future. _As Ienzo continued his vigil out the window, he saw Xion run out from the ground-level entrance of the bell-tower, trying unsuccessfully to hide her limp. She vanished within the loosely gathered crowd, and the boy's internal conversation resumed; he subconsciously tightened his fists, so that his knuckles turned white, and clutched at his ring, almost doubling over.

_You can't learn to save your parents twice, and you can't learn to undo the damage already done._

* * *

><p>"<em>Tifaaa!<em>" Xion called out, hoping that the two gypsies had not been taken away. The artist she had seen on the night of the attack had told her the gypsies' names (Tifa and Cloud) as she was asking around for help, as well as giving her a star-charm as well, for luck. The fort wasn't tremendously large, but it was considerably spacious, though full of people.

"_Tifaaaa—Ufh._" The person she had run into turned around with an eyebrow raised, and chuckled upon seeing her.

"I'm not Tifa," he said with a wink, and, with little difficulty, picked her up like a cat and presented her to the woman in front of him. "She is."

The two adults laughed softly as Xion growled at them and was gently placed back onto the cobble-stone ground, but immediately sobered up not a minute after.

"Yes, Xion?" asked the woman, bending down on one knee to be level with her eyeline; "What did you need?"

"You... and Cloud..." huffed out Xion somewhat breathlessly from all of her yelling, "Lea... my friend, Lea... kidnapped... by pirates..." She coughed, and took a deep breath to calm herself (then proceeded to cough again, as dust had entered her lungs). "I need... help, please... Pete's crew...Ag-" Her throat constricted, and tears began to form in her eyes, blurring her vision, but she willed them away as she paused again. She held her sleeve up to her mouth, and took a deep breath of filtered, dust-less air, and steeled herself.

"_Pete',please-_"

Tifa hugged her tightly, cutting her off, and nodded her head.

"Hush, sweetie. Don't worry, you'll be fine. Your leg won't, though, unless you cure it with something _strong_."

"Here," added Cloud, thrusting a small vial of glowing green liquid inside into her hands. "Drink this. You'll feel better." Trembling, Xion unstoppered the vial and took a quick swig, swallowing it all in one go, and smiled faintly. Immediately, a warmth began to tingle through her body, and her leg felt better, her panting stopped, and the tears in her eyes disappeared, though a familiar, faint nagging feeling remained.

"T-thank you. Lea-" Tifa's finger silenced her, pressing against her lips firmly.

"We know. We can help you, but even Cr-" Cloud gave her a warning look. "Even gypsies can't do much more than that, for what you'll need to do. But don't worry," Tifa said with a kind smile, "You already have so much. Your friend's flower; the locket; that star-charm from that artist; the blessing of your manor-" Xion gasped at Tifa's words.

"_My flower!_" Too busy worrying about how to find Lea, she had forgotten his parting present to her, the fourteen-petaled flower with thirteen white petals, and one bright blue one. Frantically, she searched in her mind where it could have been. She hadn't seen it in the room, and didn't know where else it could possibly be. Tifa looked somewhat surprised, but said nothing, only motioning to Cloud, who placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Xion, relax. I promise you, you'll find it, as you will Lea. But for now, I'd suggest you talk to Xehanort; all we can do for you know is heal you, and send you on your way after you know what your plan is." He smiled at her, and she nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. She looked back once before she was gone, hidden by the numerous guests and tradesmen still remaining in the castle. Tifa and Cloud watched her vanish, before slipping into the shadows themselves.

"_Go._"

* * *

><p>Lord Xehanort was in the courtyard, along with Braig, the two muscled guards, Even, and several naval officers. All were standing around a large wooden table, upon which lay several maps, an encased compass, miniature galleons, and a magnifying glass. Xion ran over to them, and quickly curtsied as she tugged on Xehanort's emerald green jacket.<p>

"Milord, please help me: they took Lea!" Braig snickered behind his hand at her words. That was _not _how you asked Xehanort to help you. The silver-haired man slowly turned around and looked down at the singer.

"Oh, did they now?" Xion flinched at his words, fearing that she had annoyed him.

_I have to remember that he's not like the master of the manor... _Xion shook her thoughts away as Xehanort continued speaking to her.

"Did you know that they also abducted several of my subjects and guests as well, including some very important ambassadors? Forgive me, but I find that their safety is a higher priority than your friend's at the present moment, but do not make the mistake of thinking that you are the only one who cares for his well-being. Both you and your friend now work for _me_, and I shall not have some scoundrels steal from me and go unpunished for it. If you want to be useful, you could go to Dilan and offer to help with the fortress repairs." The black-haired, muscled guard glanced indifferently at her. Though she could sing like an angel, he very much doubted that her thin frame could ever help the workers.

Xion shook her head and tugged on his sleeve again as he turned back to the sea charts.

"_Please_, sir, if that's the case, then grant me leave to go to sea to find him! He'll be sold in Agrabah, and I need to-" Braig laughed out loud at her plea, and smirked at her.

"Do you even know the _first thing _about sailing, poppet? Agrabah is far, far away, and in fairy tales, usually it's the prince who rescues the princess, not the other way around."

"Braig..." Xehanort held up a hand, and the uniformed man quieted (though his smirk remained).

"If you are so interested in going to sea, then maybe you should join the Navy. I'm sure they could find a use for you," (Here Dilan and Braig exchanged looks) "and Destiny Islands does supply our allies with spices and fresh fruits. Perhaps you could hitch a ride and find your little friend before we do." He crouched down on one knee and smiled. "I highly doubt that. However! I'm glad to see that you've recovered so quickly, and now bid you to return to your room, and stay there until everything has been cleared up, or I come for you. Do you understand?"

Xion hung her head and clasped her hands behind her back, nodding silently.

"It's _Yes, sir_, or _Yes,_ _Lord Xehanort_, Xion," corrected her Superior. Xion fought back tears as she curtsied, keeping her head bowed to hide her eyes.

"_Yes, sir_," she whispered, and, once the Lord turned back to the table and maps with a satisfied smile, turned and ran.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ahaaaa~ "_Even Even..._" That was unintentional, but hilarious.  
>Aww, sadface! a) I think the style in which I wrote this was very different from Chapter One, and b) poor Xion! Even though I dislike her, she's fun to write :)<br>I don't understand it either.**

**Clue _alert! _The word? **Flower. **You'll see what happens in the next chapters ;)**

**QUIZ! Where do you think Xion will find her flower, and/or how do you think Xion will begin her adventure? (Since Chapter 1~3 will serve as an unorthodox prologue, of sorts)**

***The poem is by Lewis Carroll (to _Alice _fans, you'll recognize it), but I tweaked and changed it a little. It's another clue to the subsequent chapters, but not for a loooong while yet! **

Thank you! (Reviews are appreciated but not mandatory!)**  
><strong>


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